The Clover Kingdom isn't exactly a highly civilized nation; even festivals are rare.
A large portion of them are tied to the Magic Knights. For example, the Star Awards Festival is the Magic Knights' annual commendation and employee recognition ceremony, which gradually evolved into a celebration for the entire populace.
The Decisive Battle, then, is the Magic Knights' Olympic Games—except there's only one event: magical combat!
Held once every ten years, the Decisive Battle exists to determine the strongest among the current Magic Knights.
Some say the one who wins it in the end will become Wizard King. After all, the Wizard King is supposed to be the strongest Magic Knight.
Naturally, Charles wanted to go join the fun. In his memory, nothing major should happen in the six months before the fight against the devil hosts, so it could double as a date with Stella.
Having decided, Charles went to rest, and the next day he and Stella rode Chongming toward Clover Castle.
The sun was bright, the temperature just right, and both of them were in better spirits.
There was still some time before the opening of the Decisive Battle, so they strolled around Clover Castle.
Perhaps because it was a once-in-a-decade festival, the city was especially lively.
Salt-grilled skewers clearly weren't to sweet-toothed Stella's taste; after one bite she shoved the rest into Charles's mouth.
Seeing her adorable expression, what could Charles say? A man should spoil his own girlfriend.
"This place is actually pretty nice!" Stella laughed. "Can we stay a while longer?"
Charles only smiled and nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. It was a special time for festivities; at any other time, this city wasn't so lovely.
As long as the high walls separating the royal realm from the rest towered there, this country couldn't change.
Still, since the mood was so good today, he wouldn't spoil it.
He remained silent—but someone else spoke up.
"Miss, this country isn't as wonderful as it looks. Its decay and darkness are beyond saving."
Stella instinctively took a step back and turned toward the voice.
A group of four stood there, all in black hooded cloaks that hid their faces and builds.
The speaker was the man at their head. His tone was calm, but to Charles he felt like a volcano.
Calm on the surface, molten within.
Most importantly, all four possessed magic on par with, or above, Magic Knight captains.
Charles searched his memory, but couldn't recall any such four from the original story.
Just then, someone behind the leader spoke in a slightly aged voice. "It's about to start. Are you still going to dawdle?"
The leader seemed to sigh. "Don't worry. This country will get better—becoming a place where everyone respects one another and can laugh together."
With that, he led the other three onward.
"Charles, what's with them? They seem… off," Stella whispered, drawing closer.
Charles frowned. From the man's tone, those words were absolutely heartfelt.
Asta had said the same thing, but from that man, Charles felt none of Asta's warmth and hope.
"I've got a bad feeling," Charles said. "Something unpleasant may be about to happen. Let's get to the arena."
The four were headed toward the Festival Arena. Between their outfits and their words, if he couldn't guess the development, he'd be letting down all the stories he'd seen in his previous life.
Stella had no objections, and they quickened their pace.
The Festival Arena—where Charles, Asta, and Yuno had taken the Magic Knight entrance exam—was the kingdom's venue for major events.
Now it was packed with spectators eager to witness this year's Decisive Battle.
As soon as he and Stella entered, they scanned the stands, but the four were nowhere to be seen.
Charles did spot many familiar faces, though—the Black Bulls sat among the crowd watching the matches.
Members of other squads were scattered across the stands as well.
Instinctively, he looked to the arena floor and saw two people facing off.
One was Yuno. Half a year later, the kid hadn't changed much—still cool as ever.
Vice-captain of the Golden Dawn at his age—his future was bright. Chosen by a four-leaf grimoire, strong magic, good looks—no wonder rows of girls were holding banners to cheer him on.
The one opposite him was far stranger: robed, wearing a half-mask over his face.
Charles didn't think he was one of the four from earlier; the masked man was clearly too short to be any of them.
Most crucially… Charles knew that black greatsword in his hand all too well.
So why is Asta dressed like this? The moment he picks up that sword, anyone who knows him will recognize him!
Charles glanced around at the other Magic Knights. Sure enough, not one stood to arrest Asta, the supposed criminal who'd been banished. No one was taking that verdict seriously.
He couldn't make sense of it. The trial had been a huge spectacle—front-page news across the nation—and Asta had nearly been executed.
Now it was as if it had never happened. Asta just threw on a disguise to fool himself and stepped into the spotlight before everyone.
Though Charles was on Asta's side, he still felt the kingdom's laws were a joke.
While he was distracted, Stella tugged on his sleeve. "Found them—there!"
Following her finger, Charles spotted the four.
Each stood atop one of the arena's four high stone pillars, clearly about to make a move.
In the next instant, the four simultaneously ripped off their cloaks, revealing their true faces.
A silver-haired youth with a slightly flippant air, a sharp woman in a military uniform, an elegant elderly gentleman, and a cold-faced middle-aged man.
Different styles, but they had one thing in common: each wore a splendid mantle—distinctly the robe of a Wizard King.
Their unfamiliar faces gave Charles no clue to their identities. He had no time to ponder, either; the four had already begun.
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